Savior
by wrappedinflowers
Summary: People can find where they least expect it.
1. Chapter 1

From his corner of the locker room, Sam could just see David Karofsky changing out of his football uniform. He wasn't really sure when he first started noticing the other boy's muscular build or the confident, sexy, way he carried himself, but what he DID know was that for some reason he couldn't keep his eyes off of him.

Slowly the other boys began filtering out of the room, ready to get home after a long day of practice. Sam prayed that he wouldn't be left alone with Karofsky, not only because of these new feeling but also for fear of retaliation. He never knew when Karofsky would strike back after their most recent argument.

"Hey Sam, you ready to go? I have some Glee stuff I wanna talk about." Finn was waiting at the door to the locker room, obviously trying to give Sam a chance to escape.

"Nah, man. I have to talk to Coach Beiste about missing a few practices. I'll catch you later." The obvious lie escaped his lips before he even knew what he was saying. He furrowed his brow and turned back to his locker, stuffing his bag with equipment. Why would he turn down the opportunity to get away from Dave?

Finn just shrugged and exited the room, leaving Sam and Karofsky alone, except for the thick stench of sweat.

Karofsky cleared his throat. "Hey man…"

Sam looked up, startled at the softness in the usually-harsh voice.

"I just wanted to clear the air, y'know." Karofsky took a step towards Sam, who was wearing only blue basketball shorts. Sam seemed to notice that Karofsy's eyes lingered on his chest for a second too long, but he dismissed it as his over-active imagination.

"Oh, no problem," Sam said cordially. "It was really our fault...we started the fight, I guess. We all knew that you get angry when people call you gay."

"That's only because I'm not." Karofsky's eyes seemed to grow a little dimmer, like he was weighted down with something.

"Me either." Sam said with a laugh. "I know how it feels to have those rumors spread about you… I don't know why I took part in that stuff."

"Yeah, I think I'm going to kill the next person that spreads that stupid rumor about me."

"Oh, Rä'ä si tsakem!" Sam said jokingly.

Karofsky looked puzzled. "What?"

"It means 'don't do that'." Sam explained with a boyish grin. "It's Na'vi. You know, from Avatar."

His face fell a little when Karofsky just stood, staring at him with a blank expression.

"Sorry… I can be kind of a geek sometimes." He grabbed his T-shirt and pulled it on over his head. "I'm gonna head out, man. See you at practice tomorrow, I guess."

Sam rushed out of the building and practically ran to his car. Jumping into the driver's seat, he slammed the door behind him. '_What the hell, Sam? Were you flirting with Dave Karofsky?' _His hands began to shake and he rested his head on the steering wheel. _'What is __**happening**__ to me?_' He reached o for his pocket, searching for his phone so he could call Kurt. He was really the only person Sam knew that could help him dig through all of this confusion.

Seeing that his phone wasn't in his pocket or around his seat, he began rifling through the gym back that he'd slung into the passenger seat when getting into the car. After searching the bag and finding nothing, he searched every nook and cranny of the vehicle to no avail.

"Shit!" The sudden realization of what had happened hit him harder than a sudden slushie to the face.

He'd left the phone on one of the benches in the locker room.

He let out a muffled sigh and looked back at the school. For a moment he seriously considered just leaving the phone until tomorrow, but he didn't want to face the wrath of his mother when he couldn't call to check in. Finally he got out of his car ant trudged to the school, hoping Karofsky had left for the night.

Karofsky sat with his head buried in his hands, trying to make sense of what was happening. He'd thought that with Kurt gone that these _feelings_ would disappear, but now Sam had made them multiply. For some reason he couldn't resist Sam's heart of gold and nerdy jokes. He'd almost melted when he spoke Na'vi, a practice that would get any other boy at McKinley a black eye.

Angrily, he wiped a tear that had managed to escape down the side of his face. It wasn't fair that he was stuck with this unnatural attraction to people of the same sex, and honestly it was scaring him. He saw what happened to gay people in this town. Hell, he'd been the one that caused Kurt to leave. Every day he was forced to be somebody he's not, and it was beginning to piss him off.

"I just want it to go away," he whispered into the empty locker room.

"Want what to go away?" Sam's voice suddenly rang in his ears, and Karofsky turned to see the tall blonde boy standing anxiously at the end of the bench. "I came back to get my phone… What's wrong?"

He considered lying to him, that would be the easiest thing to do, but he was getting so tired of hiding. There was a long pause before Karofsky finally broke down. "Sam... I'm gay."

Without looking at Sam's face he whipped back around on the bench and hid is face. He attempted to hold back his tears in front of the other boy, but it was a wasted effort, his red cotton tee-shirt already becoming stained.

He felt a presence in front of him and looked up to see a very pale Sam Evans standing in front of him. Sam reached out and wiped a tear from Karofsky's face before lowering himself to Dave's eye level.

"Its okay, Dave." Sam cooed, his voice hoarse. Karofsky was almost startled at the use of his first name. No one besides his dad had called him "Dave" in years.

Sam took one of Dave's hands in his, squeezing it tightly. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, Dave. Love is love. I mean look at the two main characters in Avatar. Those two weren't even of the same species! They were from two completely different planets, Dave, but they loved each other. That's all that matters."

All of a sudden, something happened that Karofsky could have never foreseen. Sam Evans raised his head and pressed his lips against Dave's. He did so tentatively, almost as if he was afraid that Dave would lash out. Dave felt his hands lift and his fingers managed to curl into the back of Sam's silky smooth hair, pulling him closer so that their bodies were pressed against on another and they were forced to stand. He let his mouth open slightly and his tongue began to dance around Sam's in a passionate tango of lust and need. Sam turned them around and forced Karofsky against a row of lockers, never once breaking their kiss.

He wasn't sure who had pulled away first, but before long both were sitting red faced and panting on the red metal bench.

"Dave?" Sam asked between gulps of breath.

"Yeah?" Karofsky replied, chest heaving.

"I know you're not ready to be completely "out" yet." Sam paused, unsure of what to say.

"And?" Karofsky prompted.

"But I think it would be nice if we could..." Sam swallowed hard. "I want- I want to be with you Dave. I've known for a while now, and it's driving me crazy. I-I don't want to hide anymore. I'm so tired of being afraid. I want to face this; I want to go into the world as I am. I want to do it with you, Dave."

Karofsky sat in silence. With all of his heart he wanted to say yes. He wanted to be with Sam, he wanted to have courage (or whatever that hobbit Kurt was always with had said). But he just couldn't do it.

"Please…" Sam pleaded, his voice cracking and eyes beginning to water.

"Look Sam.." Karofsky got up off of the floor and turned his back to him, trying to hide the anguish on his face. "This was a mistake. I'm sorry… I have to go."

And with that he fled the locker room, leaving Sam alone with the cold sting of hurt and rejection.


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of the week after Sam's encounter with Karofsky seemed to pass about as quickly as a stagnant pool of water. Every day he would wake up, go to school, and somehow manage to finish his homework before burying himself in old comic books. He'd even managed to get through a whole football practice without even making eye contact with Karofsky, which was an incredible feat in itself.

When the weekend finally came, Sam decided he wanted nothing more than to sit at home and re-watch all of the Star Wars movies, documentaries, etcetera, ever created without being disturbed. Getting into his car on Friday, he caught a glimpse of that familiar muscular build that two days ago he'd been pushing up against a wall in the locker room. Just the thought of it gave Sam the feeling that he'd been punched in the stomach, so he tried to push the image out of his mind and sped out of the school parking lot.

Finally arriving at home he opened the front door and sent his mom a quick text, standard procedure in the Evan's household. Mom liked to know where her kids were and what they were doing at all times. He shut the door silently behind him and tried to make a break for his room before being stopped by either one of his siblings. Today was just not the day to deal with a ten year old girl who thinks she knows everything or a nine year old boy obsessed with wrestling.

He'd almost made it to his room when he heard a familiar screech behind him.

"SAMMYYYYY!"

He quickly threw his bedroom door open and rushed inside, tossing his backpack to the floor. He slammed the door behind him right before another screech filled the air.

"Sammy, come on! You never play anymore!"

"Go away Kayla, I'm sixteen not seven!" He stood with his arms crossed at his door. "I'm really not in the mood for this right now."

"Why not?" Her whining made the octave of her voice rise even higher, something he thought was impossible. "You've been in there all week! I need you to come out so Stephen will stop trying to drop kick me!"

"Sorry Kay, but I have a lot of stuff to work on for school, alright?" He tried to keep his voice calm, hoping that she'd buy it and leave.

"But…" He could almost see the disappointment on her face.

Sam sighed and opened the door. "I just can't hang out this weekend okay?" He looked down at his sister, who looked like weirdly like a young Quinn Fabray. "Maybe next weekend I'll take you to the park or something."

Kayla crossed her arms over her chest, wrinkling the light pink baby doll dress she was wearing. "Fine. But you better not be lying." She turned on her heel and marched away, blonde hair bouncing as she went.

After he was sure she wasn't coming back, Sam sighed and retreated into his room. Heartbreak was bad enough without his having people constantly pestering him. He opened his first Star Wars DVD and managed to get through the opening credits before his phone started to ring.

"What now?"

"So, why am I here again?" Santana said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Dave could almost feel the Latina's attitude radiating off of her.

"I need your help." Dave dropped his eyes to the ground. "You have to promise me you won't tell anyone, though."

"Look, do you really think I care that much about your problems?" She rolled her eyes and lowered herself onto the couch beside Karofsky. "Fine. I won't tell. What is it?"

"It's Sam… You dated him last, and I was just wondering what the best way to say 'I'm sorry' is." He could feel his face turning red and he saw Santana's eyebrows rise mischievously. "I'm not gay or anything… He's my bro, and we got in an argument is all."

"Sure." He could tell she didn't believe him, but he didn't really care. He'd messed up with Sam and he needed to make it right. "Sam's one of those boys that like to 'talk it out'. That's why we never worked. So, if you wanna get yo' man, I suggest you two have a little heart to heart." She stood up and started grabbing her bags. "Sorry, but I told Britt I would meet her at four so I gotta go… Good luck, you guys **WOULD ** make a cute couple." She winked and was gone before Karofsky could even protest the "couple" remark

He waited until he heard the front door shut before he mulled over what she'd said. So Santana thought that they should talk... but what could he possibly say? "I'm sorry for being a douche and breaking your heart, it would be really cool if we could make out again"?

Karofsky groaned and fell over on the couch, burying his face in a pillow. 'I've had a crush on Sam for weeks, and when I find out he likes me back I push him away. Good job Karofsky.' He turns onto his side and sees his phone blinking on the table.

He picks the phone up and flips it open to find a text from Santana. 'You were just here ten minutes ago, couldn't you have talked to me then?' He hits the view button and feels his pulse quicken.

"I don't know if you heard, but your man just called me. Said his uncle died in a plane crash. Now's your chance to talk, I guess. –S"

Sam sat on a park bench watching ducks play in the pond. The water was cold and one of the younger ducks refused to get in, so the mother came and softly nudged him in with her bill. He watched with a bittersweet smile as the younger duck quacked in protest before falling in the water.

How he wished he could be one of those ducks… not having to worry about anything going wrong.

"Sam?" He recognized the voice immediately.

"Dave… What are you doing here? How did you find me?" Sam turned and stared at Karofsky. What did he want?

Karofsky walked around the bench and took a seat next to Sam. "Santana told me what happened… with your uncle. I was on the way to your house when I saw your car in the parking lot. Do you- do you wanna talk?"

Sam shifted positions sot that he sat hunched over, staring at the ground. "He was like a father to me…" Tears started welling in his eyes and his throat started tightening. "My dad left my mom when I was born. Uncle Hank was always the one that was there for me. He taught me how to ride a bike, he took me to baseball and football practice, talked to me about girls." HE let out a bitter laugh at the last statement. " When my mom married John and had my brother and sister… she told him to stop coming around. She told him I had a father now and I didn't need someone ruff around the edges like him… and now he's gone forever. He's dead." Sam looked up at Dave, tears streaming down his face. "I never even got to say goodbye."

Dave took Sam into his arms, holding him tight to his chest. Sam couldn't help but notice how safe it felt there. Like nothing could touch him.

"I'm so sorry, Sam." Dave said softly into his ear. "This never should have happened…"

They stayed like that on the parch bench for an eternity, Sam crying and Dave rocking him back and forth, until eventually his sobs turned into sniffles. Sam felt Dave shift him so that their foreheads were touching, and the tips of their noses were just brushing.

"I know this is the last thing you want to hear right now… but I really am sorry for how I acted in the locker room the other day." Dave's eyes were staring into his so deeply that it almost felt to Sam like he was searching his soul. "I'm just scared Sam… I'm so scared."

Sam sat up and took Dave's hands in his. "Let's be scared together." He squeezed Dave's hands and gave him a hopeful look. Couldn't he see that they were made for each other?

The seconds that passed seemed to go on for hours before Dave finally nodded. He gave Sam a small smile before leaning in and kissing him.

"It doesn't feel so scary when you have someone with you, does it?" Sam asked after they pulled away.

"No… It's not because someone's with me. It's because YOU'RE with me." Karofsky blushed and dropped his eyes. "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Nga yawne lu oer."

"Is that... Dave, are you speaking Na'vi?" Sam felt a grin spread across his face.

"I looked it up online… I was hoping I'd get the chance to say it to you one day."

Sam took Karofsky's face into his hand and kissed him tenderly on the lips. It wasn't like the first time, rushed and erratic, or the second time either. This time it was slow and smoldering, it had something new fueling it. Love.

Sam began kissing Dave's jaw line and trailed up to his ear. "I love you too." He whispered softly.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam could handle the "rules" of dating Dave. He was okay with not holding hands, hugging, kissing, or even making eye contact in public. What he couldn't take was the way Dave's personality suddenly switched when he was with his jock friends.

He tried to focus on his English teachers lecture, but every time she talked about the main characters battle for acceptance his mind threw him back into what had happened in the hall yesterday.

He'd been walking to Algebra, a class he was actually good at, when he saw Dave walking with some hockey buddies. He immediately averted his eyes and planned to keep walking when a particularly husky boy, that seemed to have the IQ of a peanut, called out to him.

"Hey, pretty boy. Where ya headed?"

"Erm.. Math?

"Going to count your gay?" The boy cracked, reaching out to high five Azimio, who seemed to think this was the wittiest thing he'd ever heard.

Sam let his eyes lock on to Dave's, silently pleading him to do something. The other boys noticed the look and turned to Dave, confused.

"What are you looking at fag?" Dave's face was expressionless, showing no signs of remorse. Within seconds Sam felt his back collide with the metal lockers. "Queer."

The group of boys laughed, disappearing down the hall, and Sam watched them go with hatred boiling in his veins.

Now it was the next day and he still wouldn't return Dave's calls. When Sam had switched on his phone that morning there had been 24 missed calls and 16 text messages, but he refused to answer any of them. Why should he? He'd already forgiven him once for his craziness, why should he do it again?

Because he needs you.

There it was again. The part of him that terribly wanted to answer the phone, that wanted to give in and run back into Dave's arms. It was the same part of him that thought it was a good idea to forgive him in the first place, and look where that had gotten him.

No, he wouldn't forgive him this time.

After school that day Sam was finally confronted in the empty halls.

"Leave me alone, man." He said when he felt Dave's shadow over him.

"Why won't you answer your phone?"

"I don't know Karofsky, why don't you stop beating up the people you like?"

Dave looked like he'd been punched.

"You called me Karofsky…"

"Maybe because the person I see in font of me isn't the Dave I know. That boy that shoved me into a locker? That's not the same person that held me in the park last week." Sam slammed his locker shut and stared into the bigger boys eyes. "Who are you?" He pushed past Dave and rushed out of school.

Karofsky sat in his room bandaging his hand, which he'd pounded into his wall moments ago. Lately he just couldn't control himself. His anger problems were getting worse every day that Sam ignored him.

It wasn't really his fault that Sam was in the wrong place at the wrong time. What was he supposed to do? If he hadn't shoved him it would have been obvious something was up, and then BOTH of them would have gotten more than a just few bruises.

It didn't help that Sam wouldn't talk to him either. He'd managed to get him to answer the phone once, but instead of talking they just fought.

"It's time to make up your mind, dude." Sam had told him. "You have to decide between being the big homophobic bully, or being my- being my boyfriend."

It wouldn't bother Karofsky if Sam had yelled at him. He would actually prefer it. Instead he just sounded hurt.

Maybe it would be best if he left Sam alone. Maybe he should just give it a rest and avoid making Sam's life any worse. Karofsky was the one that decided to be the bully, he was the one that had chosen to threaten Kurt, and now it was time to fix it.

He had to make himself better before he could ever love anyone.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been at least a month since Karofsky had spoken to Sam. They saw each other in the hallway and nodded politely to each other in history, but other than that they avoided each other like the plague.

He'd been working hard this past month to make himself better, so that maybe someday Sam would talk to him again. He'd even started seeing a therapist, thanks to the help of his mother.

The ex Mrs. Karofsky lived across town in an apartment building with her boyfriend and son, Karofsky's replacement. He wasn't really sure how his parents had even gotten together, his mother being a free-spirited liberal and his father a narrow-minded redneck.

They'd broken up when Karofsky was six, and after a nasty custody battle his mom all but disappeared. She'd left him completely alone to deal with his fathers anger problems… but that was a whole other story on it's own. When he saw her again towards the end of seventh grade she'd begged him to let her back into his life, and promised she would do whatever it took to make it up to him. He figured driving him to, and paying for, sessions with a therapist would be the perfect way to let her do just that, even if it was four years later.

His shrinks name was Mr. Robinson.

"Why do you say you need to be here, David?" Mr. Robinson had asked the first day. He peered at Karofsky over his spectacles, a hint of gray sprinkled in his dark black hair.

"I have issues handling my anger." He said simply. He wasn't really sure why he even asked, it was more than likely written on a paper in his file somewhere. "I have a problem with shoving people into lockers… I even threatened someone's life once."

Mr. Robinson raised his eyebrows. "Why do you think you did that?"

"He- Kurt was gay."

"That's all?"

"Do I need a better reason? I was just tired of that fairy shoving his gayness in my face." His voice trembled a bit, and he knew he'd tipped the doctor off.

"You know what, David? I don't think your being honest with me."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. You're on the football team?" Karofsky nodded. "Here's what I think happened. I think this boy, Kurt, scared you. I think he made you feel some things, some things that you didn't understand, and you knew that if your football buddies even THOUGHT you were confused you would never hear the end of it. So you bullied him."

Karofsky stared down at his hands, his brows knitted together. "I kissed him… without his consent. I knew it was wrong... but I just needed to see. It felt so normal. It felt right… but the whole time all I could hear was my dad's voice, telling me over and over that 'queers are scum'. So I threatened him. I turned into my dad… I became the monster I've been trying to escape." Karofsky rolled up the sleeves of his letterman jacket showing bruises, all in different stages of healing. Anyone else would have sworn they were just from football, but unfortunately they weren't. "This is what he does to me… and I did the same thing to Kurt and Sam."

He choked on Sam's name, making the doctor's eyebrows shoot up again, but thankfully he didn't ask.

"I'm just like him."

"Can anyone tell me why nationalism was so important in the unification of Germany?" asked Mrs. Harmen, Sam's history teacher, a middle aged woman that was the spitting image of one Professor Trelawny.

This was his least favorite class, not only because he shared it with Dave, but also because history was the driest subject imaginable.

The obnoxious girl next to him opened her mouth to answer the question, but was interrupted by the sudden opening of the door. All eyes in class momentarily flicked to the door, curious to see who was visiting, but since no one recognized him they all lost interest momentarily.

Sam's were the only eye's that remained glued to him.

"Hello." The tall, slim, boy said to Mrs. Harmen. "I'm new."

Mrs. Robinson took his schedule card and examined it, while he anxiously tugged at his coffee colored curls. "Stephen Daniels…" Her eyes traveled around the room. "Edwards.. Enfinger.. Evans… Ah, perfect. Take the empty seat right behind Mr. Evans, Mr. Evans raise your hand, please."

Sam felt his face flush and he reluctantly slipped his hand into the air. The boy walked briskly down the aisle and slid into his seat.

"Alphabetical order… how original." Stephen whispered to the back of Sam's head.

Sam smirked, and peered back at the boy behind him, giving him a quick nod in agreement before turning his attention back to the lecture.

Mrs. Harmen finally finished her babbling with five minutes left in the period, enough time for Sam to turn around and introduce himself.

"Hi, Stephen right? I'm Sam." Sam wasn't sure he'd ever seen such a, for lack of a better word, pretty boy. It looked as if his face had been carved by angels.

"Nice to meet you, Sam." He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice to a murmur. "Has anyone ever told you that you have the most perfect lips?"

Sam felt his face grow hot. 'Uh… no. I'm actually more used to being insulted about them actually."

"Oh. Well I think they're perfect." Stephen said mesmerizing Sam with the flutter of his eyelashes.

"Your eyes are so… green." Sam said stupidly.

Stephen just laughed, and thankfully the bell rang to excuse Sam from any further embarrassment. He turned back around, rushing to pack his things so he wouldn't be late for his next class. He almost didn't notice when Stephen dropped a folded piece of paper on his desk.

"We should hang out sometime. Text me? 407-370-8849"


	5. Chapter 5

"So what do you do other than football?"Stephen said, lowering himself down on the couch next to Sam.

He handed over one of the Coke's he'd brought from the kitchen and let his eyes wander shamelessly over Sam's muscular body.

"Well, I sing. I'm actually in New Directions, our Glee Club. We're going to nationals soon, I'm so pumped! I still can't believe we won regionals. What about you?"

"Oh, me? Well I sing too, though my old school didn't have show choir. I paint and like to write short stories. I'm sorta a nerd, addicted to sci-fi, so I mostly write about that."

For some reason Sam's whole face lit up. He almost looked like a puppy that was about to be taken for a walk.

"Dude, you think you're a nerd? I know every word of Na'vi, I own every season of Star Trek, and I once went to a Halloween party with some friends dressed as the Justice League. I try not to let my nerd side show as much any more, though. It drove my ex-girlfriend crazy."

Stephen felt his heart sink. "Oh.. but I thought you were.."

"I'm kinda bi..." Sam said, color rising in his cheeks.

"Oh! That's- that's totally cool." He tried not to seem too eager. "As for me I'm gay. Completely gay. One hundred percent." Stephen almost hit himself. Why couldn't he stop talking?

Sam just chuckled. "I know. I figured that out the first day I met you. You're not very subtle." He gave Stephen a cute sideways grin, and a wink that almost made him melt.

He slid closer to Sam, a bold move that left barely two inches between them. "Yeah well, I know what I want when I see it." Shyly, he broke eye contact and focused on trying not to blush. He couldn't believe what was coming out of his mouth.

Sam leaned forward, close enough to taste. Instead of leaning in he made eye contact with Stephen and whispered, "Are you saying you want me?"

"Maybe I am." Stephen tilted his chin upwards slightly, meeting Sam's lips for the first time.

He was right about those lips. They were perfect.

One Week Later:

"Sam… Can we talk?" Karofsky said to the blonde boy rifling through his locker.

"What do you want Dave?"

"I just thought I'd tell you… I- I've been seeing someone."

Karofsky saw Sam's eyes flash- jealousy?

"What, like you're dating someone?"

"What? No!" He dropped his voice. "Like a therapist."

Sam froze. "You- what? Why?"

"For you… I'm tired of hurting people. Especially the one's I care about the most. I'm getting better ."

Karofsky cleared his throat, and the look on Sam's face told him he knew what was coming next.

"I was really hoping that we could… try again. I've missed you Sam. I don't think I've ever missed someone this much, especially since it's my fault you're gone. I am so sorry that I took it, my fear, out on you."

Sam said nothing.

"Sam, please. I need you. I'm not… I'm not afraid anymore Sam. Please." His voice was feeble, and he knew he could cry at any moment. Sam had that effect on him. "I love you."

"Dave…" Sam began, but paused like he'd changed his mind about what he was saying.

"Yes." He closed his locker and wrapped his arms around Karofsky. "Yes."

'I love you.'

Sam tried to shake Dave's voice out of his head. He never meant to say yes. He didn't MEAN to date both Dave and Stephen at the same time… it just happened. Sam wasn't the type of guy that cheated, but he just couldn't handle the look on Dave's face… and he knew that would be the same look the Stephen would give him if they broke up.

He felt trapped.

Sam lied on Stephen's bed with his head in the other boys lap. He tried not to make it obvious that something was bothering him, but he was always horrible at hiding his feelings.

"What are you thinking about?" Stephen said, running his fingers through Sam's hair.

"It's just… Dave. He told me he's going to therapy now, and that he's trying to get better. He wanted to get back together."

"What did you say?" Stephen didn't seem too worried, more curious. The way he trusted Sam just made him feel even more guilty.

"Well, I told him I was dating you of course." He lied. "He- he didn't take it too well, and I'm kinda worried. I don't want him to hurt himself… or anyone else."

"So what do you wanna do?" Sam felt Stephen's hand slip into his.

"Maybe we shouldn't be all affectionate in public? I mean… I don't want to set him off."

Stephen lifted Sam's hand to his mouth and gave it a little peck. "Sure, baby. Anything for you."

"Thanks." Well at least he'd eliminated one way of them finding out about each other. "I know it's hard but I'll make it up to you, I promise. How about… Dinner Saturday?"

"Sounds good."

"We should go somewhere cheesy and romantic," Sam said, smiling. "Like a real date."

"Whatever you say. Surprise me." Stephen's tone changed, suddenly serious. "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."


	6. Chapter 6

"So," Mr. Robinson said, peering at David over his spectacles. "What happened David?"

He stared down at the boy, who had a new hollowness about him. David sat unmoving, his mouth set in a hard line. He looked tired, beaten down.

"David, we can't fix he problem if you don't tell me what it is." Mr. Robinson rose out of his chair to offer him a water bottle, but instead of taking it from him David drew back, almost as if he'd been swung at. "David..."

"You want to know what happened?" He said fiercely, his voice suddenly ripping out of his throat. "Fine."

Going out to dinner with his family was the last thing Stephen wanted to do on a Friday night, but his parents insisted. It was an Italian restaurant, Breadsticks, the same one Sam had taken him to the previous Saturday.

So Son, how are things going at your new school?" His father stroked his chin, scratching his fingers along the stubble growing there. "Is everything going alright with your friend? What's his name?"

"It's Sam… and he's not my friend he's my boyfriend." Out of the corner of his eye he saw his mother's hand fly anxiously to the strand of pearls around her neck. "We're doing fine, thanks for asking."

"You're still going on about that?" His father asked cheerfully, as if it were a joke.

"Frank…" His mother was staring at her husband, blue eyes warning him not to take it too far in public.

"No, June. Stephen always decides to run around with these boys every time he doesn't get what he wants." He leaned over the table, lowering his voice. "I understand moving was hard for you, but I think you're taking this too far.

Stephen just stared at him coldly. "This isn't just some cry for attention, Dad. I'm gay. It must be really hard for you, having a faggot for a son." He sits his fork down onto the plate of a chicken-pasta concoction and slides out of his booth. "Excuse me. I have to use the restroom."

Stephen brushed past a few waiters and diners, almost knocking a steaming bowl of soup to the ground, before finally making it to the bathroom. The room was completely empty, not that it really made a difference. He stepped into the last stall, the one containing a sink, locked the door behind him and immediately fell to his knees. The porcelain bowl in front of him looked clean, but there was no doubt in his mind that it was covered in filth. Just the thought of it was enough to make his stomach turn, but that was good considering what he was about to do.

The best, or some would say worst, thing about being a boy with an "eating disorder" is the fact that it was uncommon. No one expects a boy to starve himself or make himself vomit. Sometimes though, Stephen wished they would.

Stephen doubled over the toilet seat, regurgitating everything he'd previously eaten. It was the most horrible feeling in the world , throwing up, but it was his only way to cope. He reached up with his clean left hand to flush the toilet and picked himself up off of the cold tile floor. Hurrying to the sink, he scrubbed his hands and splashed the tears off of his face.

He tried to avoid eye contact with anyone once he left the restroom, as if that would make his blood-shot eyes invisible. He rounded the corner to the main dining area and instinctually scanned the room.

Suddenly his eyes caught on a head of bright blonde hair, the owner of whom was laughing and holding hands with a boy across the table.

Sam.

Stephen felt his heart sink and his stomach churn as he saw his boyfriend lean over the table to kiss someone else. He tore his eyes from the scene in front of him and turned his back on them, heading back to the bathroom.

Sam was astounded that he'd actually managed to get Dave out on a date with him. Sure they'd had dinner together before, but this was different. They were in public now.

"This is so exciting, Dave. I honestly never thought you'd actually let me take you out."

"Yeah, well I told you I'm going to therapy now. I'm getting better."

Sam almost choked on his breadstick. "So you told him? About you-know-what?"

"He kinda figured it out himself." Dave fiddled with his spoon and gave Sam a tight smile. "I didn't deny it though."

Sam reached out and took his hand, ignoring the look of shock that crossed Dave's face as his eyes flew around the room, checking for people watching. "I am so proud of you, man. I bet it's not as scary as you thought it would be though."

"I guess not. It gave me the courage to come out to Az too…" Dave looked away. "He didn't take it so well."

"What? Dave, that's great! Well… It's not great that Az was weird with it but-"

"I did it for you Sam," Dave interrupted. "I told you… I'm not scared anymore."

"You're really not scared?" Sam's eyes glistened mischievously, a grin spreading across his face. "Prove it."

"What?"

"Prove it." He repeated. "Kiss me."

"What?" Dave's face became bright red and his chocolate brown eyes swelled to the size of Cadbury eggs.

Sam was joking of course, he didn't really expect him to get up in public and lay one on him. That's why he was so surprised when he did.

Dave leaned forward and timidly gave Sam a peck on the lips before jerking away just as quickly. His face was flaming and his eyes were once again searching the room for witnesses.

"Dave, chill out. No one cares."

It took Dave a few minutes to regain his composure before he could speak again. After a few minutes of sitting in stunned silence he suddenly broke out into a huge grin.

"Did I just kiss you in public?" He chuckled softly.

"You sure did." Sam said with a wink.

The two boys went along and finished their meal, enjoying the feeling of this new part of their relationship. Sam had paid the bill and they were waiting for change when he noticed Dave staring at something behind him. Sam turned, curious as to what he saw and immediately froze.

"Sam…" said the small shaky voice so small, but powerful enough to make Sam gasp for air.

"Stephen? What-"

"I was dragged to dinner with my parents." Stephen's eyes looked swollen and his face seemed to be completely drained. "I thought that would be the worst part of my night… Obviously I was wrong." He turned to Dave, all emotion gone from his voice. "I knew this whole time that I'd always be second to you… I just didn't think it would be like this. I guess he's all yours now."

And with that Stephen was gone, leaving Sam to face Dave alone.

"Dave I…"

"Not here." Dave stood up calmly and prepared to leave. "I really don't want to cause a scene. Especially about this."

He led the way outside and they were both silent until they'd reached the safety of Sam's car.

Dave spoke first.

"Sam, please explain to me why I shouldn't just go home and forget you ever existed."

"Dave… I'm so sorry. I don't know how this happened." Sam felt the familiar sting in his eyes. "I was with him, but then you came back and talked about getting better and… how could I say no?"

"Oh, great!" Dave slammed his fist down onto his own leg. "So you were cheating with ME. I was the one that was second."

"No," Sam whispered. "You were never second. I could have kissed Stephen a hundred times, a thousand times, but it never would have been equal to even one moment with you. Dave, I love you. I want to be with you. I love you so much that I don't care if I have to live my whole life in secret or get slammed into lockers every day, I wouldn't care because we love each other and that's all that matters. Right?"

Dave didn't look at him.

"Sam… I really just need to think right now. Please, just take me home."

Karofsky shut the front door silently behind him and tried to sneak to his room (not an easy feat for him, especially in his emotional state). His dad didn't know he'd gone out, and if he saw Karofsky in his "Sunday best" he'd be sure to ask questions.

He'd almost made it to his carpeted staircase when the lamp next to the couch suddenly switched on.

"Son?" There his dad stood, still in his work clothes and reeking of alcohol. "Where ya been boy?"

"Nowhere… Just out with a friend." Karofsky stared at the ground.

"Yah, I saw your little friend pulling in," his dad leered. "the same boy you always hang out with now. What happened to the black one?"

"Azimio? Nothing, sir, we just… grew apart I guess." Karofsky didn't know why he even bothered telling him this, it wasn't like he really cared about his friendships.

"Why are you wearin' your dress pants, fancy? Did you and that boy go on a date or somethin'?" His father cackled and grabbed his beer from the coffee table, giving it a long chug.

"Actually… Yeah. Dad, I'm- I'm gay." The words sped out of his mouth like a gun shot, so loud and so sudden that it couldn't help but cause a sudden, deafening silence.

His father remained still, staring. Fear ran through Karofsky's veins, rendering him unable to speak.

Without warning Karofsky felt his cheek collide with the flat of his father's hand, causing him to stumble backwards and fall to the ground.

"No son of mine is gonna be a queer!"

His dad took another step toward him and swung again, a near miss. Karofsky had never seen him this mad (or drunk), and to be honest it was scaring him. Before he knew what he was doing he was on his feet again, stampeding towards his own father. Luckily his dad was so drunk that he was able to avoid any violence, because he fell backwards almost as soon as Karofsky flew towards him.

Karofsky left his father on the floor and ran past him up the stairs, slamming his bedroom door shut. He was shaking, tears welling in his eyes and his cheek swelling to twice it's size.

Everything had gone wrong tonight. Everything the Karofsky had to look forward to, everything that mad his life worth living. It had all fallen apart.

Karofsky saw himself in his mirror, barely recognizing himself. The boy before him was not the same as before. He wasn't angry anymore… but now he was broken.

What was the point of trying if this happened?

Karofsky grabbed the closest object he could find, a rock from the duck pond where he rocked Sam that day, and hurled it at the mirror, shattering the image.

No, there was no point in trying.


	7. Chapter 7

Dear Sam,

By the time you read this e-mail, I'll be gone. I know you don't check your e-mail very often, so it's unlikely that you'll find this at all, but I just wanted a chance to say goodbye.

Please, don't blame yourself. It's no one's fault but my own. There are so many things that I haven't told you, that you really deserved to know. But it's too late now, and for that I apologize.

I came out to my dad that night. The one when I found out about you and Stephen. I should have known better, but I figured everything else had gone to shit, why not add to the pile? He hit me when I told him. He does that a lot, actually.

I guess that's why I'm doing this. I'm so tired of being scared or hurt all the time. I don't want to live my life wondering when I'll be hit next, or worse… if my secret will be leaked to the whole school. What kind of life is that, a life lived in fear?

I guess Kurt would know wouldn't he?

There's another reason, the overwhelming guilt that I feel every single day. I'm a monster Sam. I hurt Kurt, I hurt you, and who knows who else I could hurt in the future? Really, when you think about it I'll be doing the world a favor. I'm just getting rid of one more deadbeat.

So don't cry over me Sam. I'm not worth it. Go on and live your life. Maybe you can even get back with Stephen, I know he likes you a lot. Go get the happily ever after that you could never have with me.

I love you Sam. And wherever I am, I'll be missing you.

-Dave

* * *

><p>I will not pass out. I will not pass out.<p>

Stephen rested his head on the desk, willing himself to stay conscious. He'd given up on taking notes fifteen minutes ago when he realized he was shaking too much to write anything.

Three days ago he'd decided to go on a liquid fast, which quickly turned into consuming nothing but diet soda everyday. Everything had been going well, until today.

"Dude?" His lab partner poked him. "You okay?"

Stephen sat up straight and somehow mustered up the energy to laugh. "Yeah, I'm just tired. I didn't sleep much last night, I had a last minute research paper to do."

Almost as soon as the words left his mouth his head started spinning.

"You sure? You look kinda pale. Maybe you should go to the nurse."

"Yeah… Good idea." He mumbled. It couldn't hurt to go. Maybe she'd let him lie down for a minute.

Stephen pushed his chair back, trying to avoid the terrible sound of metal on tile. He managed to take two steps before his knees buckled, and before he knew it he was out cold, causing quite a commotion in Mrs. Bentley's 7th period Chemistry class.

* * *

><p>Sam sat at his kitchen table trying to avoid the angry stare of the huge brown eyes sitting across from him.<p>

"So let me get this straight; you fell for the biggest bully in our school, dated him, got him to come out to his best friend, and then cheated on him." Mercedes said, angrily.

Sam had initially invited Mercedes over to practice their duet for Nationals next week, but she'd only been there for a few minutes before he'd broken down and told her everything.

"I know. I'm a terrible person…"

Her face softened and she reached over to grab his hand comfortingly.

"No you aren't. You just made a mistake, boo. We all do it." She gave him a small smile of understanding. "High school is tough on all of us, but it must be 100 times harder for people like you, Kurt, and Dave."

It was surprising to Sam how accepting Mercedes had been. She was the first person he'd came out to in Glee Club and he'd at least expected a bit of shock.

"Thanks, M." He gave her a tight smile before releasing a sigh. "I still don't know what to do, though. How can I apologize for something this big? This is almost as bad as Ron and Hermione's argument in Half-Blood Prince. "

Mercedes forehead wrinkled as she thought. There was a slight pause before she gasped and exclaimed, "Sing it!"

"Sing it?" Sam said skeptically.

"It's the perfect way to tell him you're sorry! Oh, I know! I'll send you that my list of 'I'm sorry' songs, I still have them on my phone from the time I busted Kurt's window."

"You what?"

"That's not the point! Here," Mercedes pulled out her phone and pressed a few buttons, "I sent them to your e-mail."

"Erm... thanks."

Sam pulled out his iPhone and opened the e-mail app to find about 25 messages waiting; he was never good at keeping up with his e-mails. His eyes skimmed the page and sure enough there was an e-mail from Mercedes, a few advertisements, and an e-mail from-

Sam's heart skipped a beat.

"He e-mailed me!" Sam almost shouted. "It says it's from today- fifteen minutes ago!"

"Well don't just sit there! Open it!"

Sam took Mercedes instruction and opened the e-mail, nervous anticipation swirling in his stomach.

"Dear Sam," he read aloud. "By the time you read this e-mail…"

His voice trailed off, and the phone clattered to the floor.

"What? What's wrong?" Mercedes said in a panic.

"It's..." Sam's voice was almost a whisper, "He's going to kill himself."

"Oh no." Mercedes looked as if she was about to cry. "No, no, no, no. Sam you have to do something! Go over there now!"

Her words fell on deaf ears, for his hands were already fumbling for his keys.

He didn't know what he would find when he got to the Karofsky's. He had no idea if Dave was even alive. All he knew was that he had to get over there, **now**.

* * *

><p>Everything was getting hazier, Karofsky noticed as he lay under the sheets of his bed. The world seemed dimmer to him, probably a side-affect of the pills he'd taken- but he was too out of it to know for sure. He tried to move his arm, and when he found that he couldn't he just silently laughed. He wouldn't need his arms where he was going, anyway.<p>

Staring up at the ceiling, Karofsky allowed his mind to wander to Sam. He missed touching him. He longed to hold his hand, to nibble on his swollen lips, to run his fingers through his wavy golden locks. It was then that it hit him: Never again would he touch, see, smell, or taste Sam again.

He didn't want this. No, he couldn't leave Sam behind.

Karofsky tried to move, tried to call out, but nothing happened. He was trapped inside of his own body, a prison he'd made for himself. Tears pooled in the corner of his eyes. He knew what would happen soon. All he could do was wait to pass out and pray that he wasn't awoken choking on his own vomit.

He blinked in surprise causing the salty liquid to trail down his face. He'd thought he heard something, the creak of his door. But that was impossible. No one knew what he was planning except for one person.

Sam.

The blonde boy materialized in front of him, along with the black girl from Glee club, what was her name? Karofsky could hear Sam yell something at her, and he saw her dial a number on the phone. She looked like a mess, her eye-makeup smeared down her face.

He felt himself moving and drew his attention back to Sam. He was drawing Karofsky to him, holding him in his arms and crying. Karofsky felt himself being rocked back and forth, and he wished that he could say something. He would do anything to stop Sam from crying.

Sam's arms enveloped Karofsky like a cocoon almost. They were like his own little sanctuary. Karofsky relaxed and let his eyes droop. He knew that nothing bad could happen if Sam was here. He was safe now.

His consciousness began to wane and sleep tugged at him, daring him to give in. He tried to fight, but it was no use. There was no winning when it came to a fight with chemicals.

His eyes slipped shut then, the fingers of sleep pulling him into oblivion, but not before he caught a glance of flashing lights coming in his window. Just before he drifted into his slumber he let out a sigh.

The paramedics were here.

He was going to be okay.


	8. Chapter 8

Karofsky was dreaming that he was at a carnival. He sat in one of the teacups whirling round and round, out of control. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't get the ride to stop, and the more he struggled the faster it went. He started to panic as the world flew by him in swirls of green and blue, reaching out for anything to stop his never ending cycle. Just when he thought all hope was lost, he felt a familiar hand slide into his. The ride suddenly came to a stop.

"Dave?"

Karofsky was torn out of his sleep and his eyes flew open. He knew that voice.

"Sam?" he whispered, voice rough from sleep. "What are you doing here? How'd you get in?"

Karofsky was referring to the strict no-visitors policy the hospital had for patients that had been Baker Act-ed.

"It's your last day… I convinced them it would be alright for a visitor." Sam shrugged. He looked tired almost as if he hadn't slept in days. "I've missed you. How are they treating you?"

"Like I'm crazy. I'd rather get my stomach pumped again than talk to one more psychiatrist.

Karofsky sighed. Ever since he'd gotten here his life had been one never ending of doctors and nurses asking him questions and checking up on him. It wasn't easy living under a magnifying glass.

Sam smiled, a bittersweet type of smile that said it was too soon for jokes.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sam asked, his heavy brown eyes staring into Karofsky's.

"I don't know. I wanted to… but I was scared. I- I might seem tough Sam, but I'm not. I'm afraid of everything."

The statement hung there in the air for a few seconds, neither boys sure of how to digest it. It was probably the most honest things they'd told each other in a while.

"I know," Sam almost whispered.

"I tried to be strong for you Sam, I really did."

Sam's forehead wrinkled and he pursed his swollen lips.

"Dave, you don't have to be strong for me. I don't want Strong Dave, or Football Dave, or even Sweet Dave. I want you, the real you. I love you, no matter what flaws you have."

"Love," Karofsky murmured, "We say it so much… but do we mean it?"

"What are you talking about?" Sam's voice rose slightly.

Karofsky stared down at his hands and said nothing. The truth was that he didn't believe Sam loved him. You don't cheat on someone you love.

"Dave." Sam looked as if he'd been slapped. "I know I screwed up. I know. But you have to know that you're the only one for me now!"

"Then why wasn't I enough to be the only one _then_?"

Sam's eyes fell and something made Karofsky feel as if he'd asked himself this a thousand times.

"I don't know," came the quiet response. "You should have been enough. I'm sorry."

Karofsky kept his face emotionless, allowing no hints to how he was feeling. Sam had lied to him, his father had beaten him, and his mother had let him down. He wasn't ready to forgive any of them yet.

"Dave."

The hand in his tightened it's grip and Karofsky's eyes met Sam's.

"I don't know why I did it. Maybe I was making sure I didn't end up alone, I don't know. It doesn't matter. What I do know is that for the last three days I've been worried sick about you. I haven't slept or eaten… My- my boyfriend almost died and there was nothing I could do. I might have fucked up, but there is no chance in hell that I don't love you."

Karofsky felt his anger begin to ease. The way Sam's voice had broken over the word 'nothing' and the way that he was now sitting, holding back tears was starting to convince him.

"I don't want to lose you, Dave. Not again."

Dave leaned over to Sam, pulling him into a hug. "Hey," he said, brushing back a tear that had escaped Sam's eye, "You won't lose me. I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

Sam nodded and managed a smile. His eyes traveled around the hospital room, seeming to take in his surroundings for the first time.

"I guess we're both a little messed up, aren't we?" Sam chuckled.

"Yeah." Dave leaned in and pecked Sam softly on the lips. "But at least we're messed up together."

Both boys sat for a minute in silence, just staring into the others eyes. Finally Karofsky broke the silence.

"Hey Sam?"

"Hm?"

"When can I get out of this loony bin?"

* * *

><p>"I see you're eating today."<p>

A light haired boy dressed in simple dark clothing slid into the seat beside Stephen.

"Just because I fainted doesn't mean that I don't eat."

Stephen gave the boy a sidelong glance. He'd been in the Nurse's office when Stephen had arrived the other day, flanked by two other pale scared-looking boys.

"Who are you anyway?"

"Dan, sophomore. It's my first year at McKinley though. I usually hang around the Drama room, so you probably don't see me around a lot."

Stephen nodded, running a hand through his curls. "It's my first year here too. I just moved from Indiana." He poked at his fruit cup, lifting one of the peaches to his mouth. He knew he had to at least finish half to prevent another fainting spell. Dan watched him eat, as if he knew what he was thinking.

"My sister was just like you. Do you throw up too? Or just starve?"

Stephens face flushed. "That's none of your business."

"She died," Dan said offhandedly. "But that was when I was young. Is that what you want, to die?"

"Like I told you," Stephen said firmly, "this isn't any of your business. I'm sorry about your sister, but that doesn't give you the right to get involved in my life."

Dan grinned at Stephen, his blue eyes sparkling. Stephen was starting to notice that this boy was a little strange.

"You're really cute when you're flustered."

Stephen practically choked on his food. Was this guy flirting with him? Shakily, he stood up to throw away the remainder of his meal, turning away to hide the blush creeping across his face.

"Hey," Dan said, grabbing the back of Stephen's shirt, a vintage tee he'd found at a local thrift store. "Sit down and eat your damn peaches."

Stephen paused and turned around, looking from his fruit cup to Dan, then back to the fruit. He thought about protesting, but the look on Dan's face convinced him otherwise. He lowered himself back into the chair and slowly popped another peach cube into his mouth.

"Why is this so important to you?" he asked after choking down the fruit. "Why are you so interested in what I do? It's not like I mean anything to you. I'm just another stranger."

Dan lowered his eyes guiltily and mumbled, "Don't be creeped out…"

"What does that mean?"

"I've sorta been… Well what I mean is-"

Stephen rolled his eyes. "Get on with it."

"I've been keeping tabs on you for a while…"

Stephen felt his eyebrows raise so high that it was a wonder they remained attached.

"What?"

"I wasn't stalking you… It's just that you're, well," Dan lowered his voice, "Gay."

"What does that mean?"

"You're the only one here since that other boy left… I just wanted to see if I'd be interested."

"Right," Stephen smirked, "totally logical."

There was a slightly awkward pause before Stephen asked, "So… were you interested?"

The blue eyes glittered again.

"What, me? Of course I wasn't."

He swung his backpack onto his shoulders and gave Stephen a grin just as the bell rang. He stuffed his hands into his hoodie and turned away, only looking back once before disappearing into the swarm of kids.


	9. Chapter 9

Sam sat tensley perched at the edge of his couch, his mother positioned similarly at the other end. It was always like this lately, his mother criticizing or worrying and Sam sitting in silent resentment. He knew he wasn't the only one with parent issues, but he couldn't help but feel sorry for himself. Not everyone had a mother as freakishly controlling as his.

"Samuel," she began, anxiety ever-present in her voice. "I want to talk to you about this friend of yours... David."

Sam tried to refrain from blushing by digging his nails into his palm.

"I know you're new and making friends is hard... but I'm not sure that you're hanging out with the right crowd. I've heard some things about this boy, Sam, and I really don't know if I want you hanging out with someone as troubled as-"

"Dave," Sam interjected, "is not troubled. Sure, he has some issues. Who doesn't?" He could feel himself becoming angrier, and he knew that he would have to calm down or risk making her suspicious. "It's not fair for you to judge him, Mom. you don't even know him."

"You're right, I don't. Maybe if you brought him over sometime then I wouldn't have to judge him based on rumors."

Sam just stared at her.

"So, are you saying you want me to bring him here?"

"Yes, I don't see why not. I've met all of your other friends."

_This is different._

"We're having casserole tomorrow night, why don't you invite him over for that?"

"Uh... Okay."

Sam practically sprung off of the couch and retreated to his room. He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and dialed Daves number.

"Hello?'

"Dave? We have a problem."

* * *

><p>Dave was so pale, he almost blended in with the pristing table cloth his mother managed to keep stainless. Everyone was seated at the dinner table now, Sam and Dave picking at the tuna casserole on their plate.<p>

"So David, what are you planning on doing in college?" Sam's mother reached forward to fix the flower arrangement for the hundreth time.

"Well," Dave said to his food, "I'm hoping for a fottball scholarship and I might major in math."

"I hate math!" Kayla squeeked from the far end of the table where she sat next to Tyler. "I'm going to be a fashion designer."

"If you don't stop leaving your toys in front of my door, you might not live long enough to be anything." Sam grinned and slipped his hand under the table to squeeze Dave's.

His mother gave him a look for teasing his sister, before she turned her attention bacck to Dave.

"I think math is a wonderful idea! I wish Sam would put more focus on his core classes instead of that Glee club of his. Now have you given any thought to..."

Dinner went well for the most part. Dave answered Mrs. Evans questions politely and the kids managed to act almost civil (except for the time Tyler flung his potatoes across the table). Afterwards the two decided to get away from the family so they could talk, and as soon as Sam's mother had her back turned they fled to his room.

"Your room is so neat!" Sam watched as Dave's eyes swept over his spotless room.

"Yeah, when you have a mom as anal as mine you have to keep it clean." Sam sighed. "was tonight all that bad? I know my family is a little crazy but-"

"It was fine. I actually liked dodging food, it was the most interesting part of my day." Dave laughed softly, and Sam couldn't help but notice how his heart leaped at the sound. He watched Dave in silence for a few seconds, watching the both turn scarlet under his gaze.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just love you."

Dave smiled nervously. He looked around Sam's room again, as if he just realize he was alone with him in his bedroom. He walked over to Sam's collection of DVD's began searching the titles.

"You know I've never seen Star Wars? Maybe we can watch it together someday. I could bring some of my action movies and we could have a marathon. We can do it at my place too if you want."

Dave was rambling, a sure sign that he was unsure of what to do. He started going off on a tangent about the food in his pantry when Sam interupted.

"Shh."

Sam stepped forward and kissed him roughly. He let his fingers curl into Dave's hair, pulling slightly- causing a soft moan to escape Dave's lips. Sam took this as encouragement and let his hand explore underneath Dave's shirt while Dave's tounge explored his mouth. He found Dave's nipple and began teasing it with his thumb and forfinger.

"Sam?'

"Hmm?"

"Your parents are downstairs."

A wicked smile creeped across Sam's lips.

"I guess you'll just have to be quiet then."

Dave tried to protest but Sam stopped him by pressing him against the nearest wall. He let his lips explore every inch of Dave's exposed neck and before long he found himself presseing his teeth into one of Dave's known tender spots. A deep animalistic sound came from deep in Dave's throat, and almost automatically Sam felt something pressing against his leg.

Sam grinned and made a mental note about biting Dave more often. Feeling his own pants begin to tighten, he slid his hands down Dave's chest and began working at his belt buckle.

"Sam I don't think we should-"

At that moment Sam's door swung open. Immediately he threw himself backwards and turned to face the intruder.

His mother.

"What in the world-"

"Nothing! I swear, mom!"

"We're you two having-"

"N- no!" Dave stuttered from the wall.

"Mom, no! Come on..."

She crossed her arms ovfer her chest.

"David, I think it's time you went home. My son and I need to have a discussion."

Dave nodded silently and practically ran from the room, only stopping to mouth "call me" in Sam's direction.

MRs. Evans shut the door behind him and sat herself down on the edge of Sam's bed, motioning for him to do the same.

"I thought that you would tell me before having sex, son."

"We weren't having sex!"

She sighed.

"Alright! So it's true then, he's gay? You're gay?"

"I'm bisexual, mom."

She nodded and brushed her chestnut brown hair out of her face, the exact color of Sam's before he dyed it. Sam expected her to be angry, to shout. He didn't expect her to be as calm as she was, and he definitely didn't forsee her leaning over to hug him.

"I love you, Sam. Gay, straight, bisexual, martian, whatever. I'm still your mother, and you're still my son. Nothing can change that."

Sam shook his head and willed the tears not to come.

"I know I'm unfair sometimes, but it's only because I worry. I hope you feel like you can tell me things now... I'll support you no matter what."

She tightened her grip and he let himself relax into her embrace.

"I love you too, mom."

* * *

><p>"I can't believe I let you talk me into that."<p>

Stephen stepped out of the community theatre audtiorium and into the main hall, Dan on his heels.

"Oh hush, you did awesome. I bet you got a lead."

Dan smiled at him for reassurance, but all it did was make Stephen more nervous. Just a week ago he'd been freaked out by this guy, and now he was getting butterflies? stephen didn't know why, but Dan made him feel safe. That's probably why he'd been able to convince Stephen to try out for the local spring musical, Annie.

"Whatever you say." Dan was watcing him intently and Stephen had to turn away. "So, what now?"

"It's Sunday. Don't you have homework?"

"No, there's only two weeks left in school. I think the teachers have given up."

"Oh." Dan crossed the hall to where Stephen stood. It was almost too close; Stephen could feel the warmth of his breath on his neck. "Maybe we could hang out? Or go to dinner?"

Stephen turned to face him.

"I thought you weren't interested?" Stephen threw back.

He couldn't believe he was actually flirting with this boy, but there he was. It was at times like this that he almost forgot about food. Almost.

"I'm not." Dan inched closer so that his lips were inches from Stephen's. Stephen wanted to give in, to kiss him back and let himself have this fleeting moment of hapiness. But he couldn't.

He took a step backwards and cleared his throat. "You know actually, I think I do have some homework to catch up on. I should just go."

He turned to leave, but Dan caught him by the wrist.

"What are you so scared of?"

Stephen froze and thought about telling him the truth; that he was afraid of letting another person in. He was afraid of getting hurt, but also of hurting someone else. He wasn't exactly in the best mental health.

He turned and faced Dan with a fake smirk platered across his face.

"I'm not scared, just uninterested."


End file.
